Thirties

 Please don’t let me be solidified

Sanctified and rectified

In the cage of my age

Age is a number but also a season

The slowing of my growth is also a reason

I fear the subjective results of my body’s response

But let me never stop the bleeding of my soul

For within the flow, it makes me whole

I see clearer behind then I do ahead

Lord fall on me again afresh

Allow me with your soul to mesh

Do not allow this world deceiving

To take my life and leave me grieving

I live.

I live in the rehlm of the uncommon 

Within the company of the not forgotten

Because what you got, 

is what they’re not

When it’s all over you’ll be at the top

You’ve got the fire for a phantom dream, 

The uncommon means, 

Your eyes are on fire,

They’ve got that gleam. 

Walking those halls with your head hung low, 

Storing the fire way down below

You’re different from them, 

it was what you feared. 

But child don’t judge yourself, 

by the company of peers. 

Because what you got, 

is what they’re not, 

and when high school is all forgotten,

you’ll live in the realm of the uncommon. 

Keep the fire for that phantom dream. 

Fishing for answers

Ive never encountered such a complicated knot of questions than that about my own vulnerability.

I’m addicted to overcoming obstacles, perhaps to the point of seeking out obstacles if there are no immediate challenges to be found.

Humbleness and fear creeps in when I realize I’m not in control. Exposing past pain and vulnerable areas puts me in an unpredictable emotional position, and I do fear the consequences of letting those soft spots surface.

Grace

I see myself in the shadows 
of the things that I lack

The goals that I carry 
are things to unpack

Are they things that I can taste 
or am I grasping the wind

If I’m working my gifts
 maybe it’s a thing I can win.

If I can feel a lead 
from a passionate prayer,

I know that in pursuit of God 
it will take me there. 

The journey is never over
 so why would I stop

Finding the footsteps
 where his grace has dropped 

Still Voice

My heart is all noise of screaming and chatter,

if I could stand still as I’d quite honestly rather,

I could spread my wings high and silence the sounds, 

and think a bit between the audible rebound. 

I’m trying to live, I know what to do, 

And in between breaths there’s echoes of you. 

you know my walls

All these things I can’t control

So I’m knocking, knocking at your door 

Have you been waiting at the doorstep?

As I surrender my need to surrender?

The answer is in my questions oh Lord. 

You pursued me, because I wouldn’t have come on my own. 

I’m praying for your fame, your glory, your honor. You know my path, my leaving and coming. 

Press through my walls, hold my hand. 

Let your holy wind push down and lift me up.

Season’s Conflict

I can hear acceleration whirring churning

Under the deep unmoving slumber 

Do not be caught without a thought

When all the green breaks through 

Excitement comes like a gift

When the frozen winds no longer sift 

Through the branches sleeping, hanging

Burdened by the sinuous ice.

Strong and slowly, roots will wake

Up and up, with urgency to break

Open wide the grand surprise, 

Spring is coming to winter’s demise